It's Just Like The Desert
by Judgement Mathew
Summary: Leon now a Professional killing machine was once human untill his love was stollen from him and he broke away from the 'millitary' keeping to himself he became lost in his memorys.
1. I never hesitate to pull the trigger

Dear reader this is my fanfic explaining more or less the history of Leon I hope you all enjoy the first chapter know flames because it's not accurate please. Because I have yet to play the third game so I am working with the information given in DOA2. Happy Reading : )

Oh btw I don't own any DOA stuff but Lt. Alexander is original character.

Leon smashed his hand into the large man's jaw smiling at the

Satisfying crunching sound as his opponent's neck snapped back. "Very Good Leon" A man dressed in desert storm cameos said clapping his hands.

Leon ran a hand through his trim hair, which was already beginning to turn white at the age of fifteen and nodded to Lt. Alexander.

"Thank you sir" he said kicking lazily at the corpse of the man.

Lt. Alexander gave a large grin, which with his angular features made him seem devilish. "Do you remember what I taught you"?

Leon locked his superior's cold brown eyes with his steel blue ones

"Never hesitate to pull the trigger," Leon said

"Good" Alexander said walking out of the gym his boots hitting the sawdust covered floor.

Leon was of Italian heritage, his parents had immigrated to the Former Soviet Union or Russia as it is known after a bounty had been put on their head because of secret operations Leon's father had been involved in with the Italian government. Moving to Russia did not help when there a hit man had followed them and as they lay sleeping at night killed Leon's parents. Waking up to find his parents lying in a puddle of their own blood his mothers blue eye's wide open staring blankly with a look of yearning young Leon became horrified and ran out into the street screaming for help. No one would help the orphan until a secret operations officer for the Russian goverment found him begging on the street. Becoming attached to the child after spending an afternoon with Leon, he took him in, in which the government quickly found a use for him and took him away from his adopted father. Leon at the age of ten began training for a secret operations mission in which he would push forth through the Taklimakan desert and be used to eliminate foreign competion of course this would be risky because of the unsteady and harsh roads used for trade among the desert which had fabled oil deposits and lost cities.

Leon's large hand slammed the door shut behind him even at the age of fifteen he was quite large standing at six feet and bordering at two hundred pounds of muscle he was quite an astonishing and dedicated fighter. Fighting for no real cause except for the cold satisfaction of killing. Of course he could slap on the pretty label of nationalism and Russia and all that crap on it. But, in the end it all came down to the fact that Leon enjoyed the thrill of the fight it allowed him to escape from the cruel world that had torn him away from his parents. He slipped his gloves off his callused hands and threw them casually onto the floor kicking off his heavy combat boots and discarding them in the same mannerism. Time's like this when he was alone were the best. No annoying drill sergeant pushing him to run another mile in harsh hot conditions no cocky ass fighter that he was going to kill by snapping his neck and throwing his lifeless body to the ground nothing. Leon's hand reached instinctively for the trunk at the foot of his cot flipping it open he rummaged through it until he found a picture of his parents the dull brass frame faded with time but, the photograph of a man and women obviously in love, endured. She was beautiful she had brown hair that fell down to her shoulders and blue eye's that radiated with joy, Leon's father the man in the picture trait's were no less astonishing he had white hair that was slicked back and brown eye's his masculine face held a kind of comforting but stern look that was accented by his tall muscular frame. Leon looked in the mirror his face not too much unlike his fathers his eye's not too much unlike his mothers blue beautiful, the only difference was that his eye's were cold with killing, a loss of innocence. A sudden feeling of emptiness filled Leon as he smashed his hand into the mirror cutting his fist in various places as the glass shattered showering fore ward from the force of the explosion of power. "I never hesitate to pull the trigger" his voice cold stern and apathetic but, yet a tear still ran down his cheek from his murderer blue eyes.


	2. I am a Professional

Disclaimer: Don't own Dead or Alive, Tecmo does. Some characters are OC's, they are easy to spot. Thanks reviewers for reviewing the last chapter. Davi, Joe, and Kbubbles.

Chapter 2: I am a professional 

3 year earlier (Leon age 12)

Leon's knee hit the packed in sand, the sun beating down on him. He struggled to his feet, his legs feeling like rubber. His tongue was dry and stuck to the roof of his mouth. He gasped, slightly hot air filling his lungs causing him to cough dryly; irritating his inflamed throat.

"Too much for you?" Lt. Alexander asked. He was in bad shape as well but not as out of shape as the young Leon.

Leon struggled to give an answer but he couldn't, his throat felt like it was on fire and he struggled to keep down the puke.

"I see," Alexander said walking over to Leon and lifting him up by the neck. "If this is too much for you; you can't handle anything." He shook Leon once to make sure he was still conscious.

"Life is just like the desert," Alexander said. It was the last thing Leon heard before passing out from dehydration.

15 years later (Leon age 27)

Leon sat down on a small bench, his large frame causing him to look like a giant sitting on a dwarf's seat. A single white strand of hair hung in his face that he brushed away without knowing it. He had already made several trips into the desert destroying trade caravans, slipping into the camps when everyone was asleep and massacring the whole lot of them. He was a professional by now. But the first time someone screamed…

_His knife punched into the woman's throat as she lay sleeping. He had missed the main artery by a centimeter and she lived long enough to scream. Her eyes had flown open with a look of horror as she opened her mouth, blood spewing out of it in a gurgling scream. _

_Before he knew it, five men were up with weapons drawn. Leon cursed under his breath and jumped for cover as shots flew by him, the gun shots filling the empty desert air ricocheting off the barrel he had taken cover under. He unhooked his desert eagle from the back of his belt and opened fire. His first shot hit a man, who was reloading, in the gut; his stomach caved in, blood spraying from the wound in a fine mist as the hot lead pushed its way through. Shot number two took the head off another man. He hit the trigger of his gun six more times taking out the other gunmen. One man left to go, armed only with a knife. _No need to waste ammo,_ he thought holstering his steaming gun and standing up, walking towards the man who took a stance._

"_I commend your bravery," Leon said cracking his neck. "But it won't help you." As the last word came out of his mouth the man with the knife charged forward, quick as lighting. Leon grabbed the knife hand and, twirling behind the wielder's back, broke his arm. The man fell to the ground screaming as Leon pushed him down. "What are you?" The man gasped in Russian._

"_I am a professional," Leon answered before he brought up his combat boot and stomped it into the man's throat. _

**Author's Ramble**

Chapter Two is up read and review, and thanks again for those who reviewed last chapter.


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